Blood Bond

CHAPTER 20

CHAEL IS WAITING FOR US IN FRONT OF THE CAFÉ. He’s in the Jag, the engine running. The sound is like the quiet growl of a big cat waiting to spring. I tip my face to Frey. “Sound familiar?”

He rumbles a growl of his own and holds the door open for me to slip inside.

Chael puts the car in gear and gives it its head. He glances over his shoulder. “You look quite beautiful in the dress, Anna.”

“What about me?” Frey says. “Don’t I look beautiful, too?”

Chael grunts and turns his attention to the road. I noticed when we got in that he was in very formal dress—a black tux and pleated white shirt. He’s concentrating on the driving, his manner relaxed.

“Tell me,” I say after a moment. “Who will be at this party tonight?”

He shrugs. “I am not privy to the entire guest list. But I do expect one or two dignitaries from the EVL.” He pauses, reading that I don’t know what that is, before continuing. “European Vampire League. Counterpart to our Thirteen Tribes. Many are in town because they are curious about you.” He glances over his shoulder once again. “This is your chance to make an impression on the oldest vampires in existence.”

“Older than Steffan?”

“Oh yes.” He chuckles. “I think you will be surprised.”

“But Steffan is their leader.”

“For the moment.”

His nonchalance raises the hair on my arm. “What do you mean?”

“I did not want to say anything before but there are rumblings in the community. We may be witness to history in the making tonight.”

Frey’s grip on my hand tightens. “What kind of history?”

“You’ll see. Shifter, you should feel honored to be included as consort to the Chosen One. Few such as yourself have been granted the privilege.”

Frey grows restive beside me. I sense an end to his patience with Chael.

“You forget yourself, Chael.” I bite off each word. “Frey is more than a match for any vampire. I suggest you don’t give him the opportunity to prove it.”

Chael takes the admonition calmly. He turns his thoughts inward and closes them off. Frey, meanwhile, is still fuming. I bring his hand to my lips. When his eyes snap to mine, I watch the transformation from anger to warmth as I rub his hand against my cheek. He nods that he is once more in control. Our hands remain clasped tightly together and we relax in our seats.

I let my eyes drift to the world outside our car. We are traveling the main road out of Lourges—to the west instead of the route traveled last night. Up into the gentle hills that surround the village. In the lingering twilight, we pass several side roads that end in huge houses perched like jewels on manicured lots.

Suddenly, an icy finger touches the back of my neck and I shiver.

Frey feels it. His eyes snap to mine. “What’s wrong?”

But I brush his concern away with a hand wave. “Nothing. Really.”

I turn my face away. Glad once again that he can’t read my thoughts; carefully locking those thoughts away from Chael’s prying mind.

Because it is something. This night reminds me of another night, almost two years ago. A ride up another hill in another part of the world that ended in a fight to the death against an old-soul vampire.

Avery.

Instinctively, my hand touches the hem of my dress. I was wearing Avery’s gift that night. Just as I’m wearing Steffan’s now.

I was driven to the house then, just as I’m being driven now.

My throat is dry. I have the terrible feeling I shouldn’t have accepted Steffan’s invitation. Worse, I shouldn’t have brought Frey along. I may have read too much into Chael’s show of goodwill, his compassion for my mother. Was it all just a trick to win my confidence?

Blood pounds through my veins, heat rising as the vampire seizes control.

Frey can feel it. My skin hot against his. He turns a puzzled frown my way. “Anna?”

Chael senses a change, too. He can’t see me in the mirror, but he is acutely aware of the transformation taking place in the seat right behind him. It makes him nervous enough to pull the car over.

Once the car is stopped, I’m out of it, at the driver’s door in a heartbeat. I fling the door open, grab Chael by the neck and pull him out, moving too fast to give him a chance to fight back. His vampire nature flashes, then retreats. He acts like a dog showing his stomach to an alpha, submissively waiting for whatever I choose to do.

I choose to shake him until his teeth rattle. What game are you playing?

None. I am doing as you asked. Taking you to King Steffan.

His mind is open, his thoughts as passive as his body.

I shake him again. There must be more. All this talk of making history and of King Steffan’s unseating. Do you expect me to fight him?

At this, a smile, thin, unnerving. No. Not you.

Then who? I shove him away, stand ready to defend myself if he unleashes his beast.

He tugs at the hem of his jacket, straightens his tie, smoothes his hair back with both hands. You are still too impulsive, Anna Strong, he says through gritted teeth and tight jaw. Has it ever occurred to you to ask first before you resort to violence?

Not when it comes to you. Now answer the question. Who do you think is going to attack King Steffan tonight?

Chael shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, locks his eyes with mine. Ever heard of a vampire named Vlad?